Burden of Advice
by DustyLuminous
Summary: Late one night on the Bus, Clint Barton gives Ward some brotherly advice. Ward, surprisingly, takes it to heart. (My attempt at getting Grant Ward out of Hydra's clutches in time)


**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these characters. If I did, Grant Ward would long since have been redeemed. Just sayin'...

 **Note:** This is a meagre first attempt at writing fanfiction. I'd really appreciate some feedback, but please have mercy. I already know this is probably shit.

As for the timeline, this is obviously set before the end of the first season. I really, really, really like Grant Ward as a character, so this is me attempting to get him out of Hydra's clutches. I might expand on this story at some point, but for now it is what it is.

 **Warning:** Corporal punishment (or just a mention, kind of). If you don't like this, turn back now. I will cackle gleefully as I ignore your flaming.

Also, there are some coarse language.

* * *

Late that night, when it's only the two of them awake on the plane, maybe the whole damn world, Barton gives him a shrewd look.

"You're hiding something," he says. "What's up?"

They're cleaning weapons down in the training room, just the two of them.

Ward likes cleaning his gun. It calms him, always has. And the companionable way Barton sits across from him, fiddling with some settings on his new bow, makes him feel ridiculously at ease.

And then the question hits him like freight train out of left field.

Yeah, he's hiding many things. Two slabs of chocolate in his upper sock drawer, and a grand total of seven knives on his person (it's a new personal record) and the fact that he's Hydra.

But none of that is Barton's damn business, is it?

He opts for staying silent.

Barton chuckles.

"Look, kid, I don't care what you're hiding. Just remember I'm the guy who works with the Black Widow. I know spies. And you're not as good as Nat is. You're not even as good as Coulson is."

Ward gives him another frown, trying to ignore the tension spiderwebbing across his back. He really doesn't want to kill Barton for blowing his cover.

Folding his bow, Barton slips it back into his shoulder harness with practiced ease. Then he draws an arrow, setting to polishing the tip with a soft rag.

Everything is silent for a few minutes, and then he glances at Ward again.

"Lemme just give you a little heads up," he says. "Whatever it is you're hiding, whatever it is you think you _can_ hide, Coulson is going to find out. And when he finds out, when not if, he's going to be seriously pissed. As in, previously unheard of atomic levels of pissed. So, for the sake of your own wellbeing, I suggest you tell him before he finds out himself."

Ward gives a short, desperate laugh at that.

"If only it were that easy," he says. "You think Coulson will be the only one wanting to kill me?"

"Nah, Coulson won't kill you," Barton says. "Kick your ass, sure. Plus, he'll protect you from all those other people that want to kill you. Me 'n Nat too. Maybe even May and ol' Nick. We'll watch your back."

Ward wants to believe him, he really does, but like he told Barton, it's not that easy. Nothing ever is that fucking easy.

"But, look," Barton says. "Don't feel pressured. I'm just giving you a little tip, is all. Take it from a guy who's been all sorts of places and made all sorts of mistakes. Coulson always knows a way. He might rip you a new one, afterwards, but he'll get you out of whatever mess you're in. He's a good guy."

"I'll keep it in mind," Ward says. 

AOS AOS AOS AOS AOS 

He does.

Two days later, when Barton is long gone, he marches up to Coulson's office.

Coulson is writing reports, and he gives Ward a bright smile.

"Something I can help with, Grant?"

"Yeah," Ward says. He's sweating and his mind is screaming at him to run but he can't. Not anymore. He's just too damn tired and too damn old (even though he just turned twenty-six last summer he's been living for a long damn time, alright) and too damn fucked up to keep on lying to Coulson. Because Coulson is smiling at him like he really wants to help him.

"You remember Hydra?" he says. "I'm working for them." 

AOS AOS AOS AOS AOS 

Barton was right.

Coulson does know a way. And he does know how to get Ward out of the damn mess he's been in ever since he was sixteen. Ward doesn't know how on earth, but he does. There's inquiries and interrogations and a few assassination attempts, but somehow Ward survives. As does SHIELD, miraculously.

Barton was right about the other thing too.

Coulson does kick his ass. But while a belt across the ass hurts like a bitch and it's kind of embarrassing, it beats being tortured to death by Hydra.

Afterwards, Coulson hugs him. Ward can't bring himself to hug back because _for fuck's sake_ nobody's touched him in a long time in a way that's just friendly. But he doesn't pull away either. Standing there in the calm warmth of Coulson's embrace, he thinks that Barton was right.

Coulson is a good guy.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Dusty XX**


End file.
